


The Sole Survivor: A Fallout Story

by SupervoidHeart



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, Blood and Gore, Dystopian Future, M/M, Science Fiction, Violence, post apocalyptic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 18:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10169543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupervoidHeart/pseuds/SupervoidHeart
Summary: Siv Karter, ex-reporter and citizen of Massachusetts, awakens in a Vault deep underground centuries after his initial freezing to find that his boyfriend, Vritra Karter, is nowhere to be seen. He embarks on an adventure to explore the Commonwealth Wasteland, in a desperate bid to find his lost lover.Along the way, he meets and makes several new friends, and will even lose a few along the way.Hey everyone! This is the first in a new series I'm gonna try and keep up with involving my OC Sivath as a human in a Fallout AU. I'm mostly basing his exploits off of actual gameplay, so some spoilers if you somehow haven't played the game yet! I welcome any and all constructive criticism, just keep it tactful.





	

Gasping for air, the first thought to enter Siv’s mind asked him where he was. What had happened. Was it all just a dream? Really, a nightmare?

A rush of warm air hit his face as he felt movement return to his limbs and body, pulling himself up and out of the cryo chamber shortly after its door rose to free him. His body hit the hard cement floor with a thud, and a groan escaped his lips while he tried to push himself up, finding that simple action difficult. How much time had passed since he entered the vault? That dream he had...

As soon as he stumbled to his feet he walked over to the pod across from his. Empty. There was a chance he got out, then.

It took all of his strength to push himself away from that empty pod, a cold, dim hallway looming in front of him. Lights flickered, and he registered an automated voice in the background.

“Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately.”

A shudder shook him to his core as he found his arms wrapping around himself to try and find warmth. Still cold, and somewhat disoriented, he pressed onward through the corridor of cryogenic containment units, stumbling up a small staircase onto a landing.

_‘What happened? Where... where is everyone?’_

Glancing to the side he noticed a window overlooking another containment room. Letting out a shaky breath, he pressed the button on the wall and the door hissed, raising to allow passage.

But the only thing he found here were more pods. Friends. Neighbors. People he knew in what felt like only moments prior, all dead. Their vital signs at zero.

Siv shook his head. “No... they can’t all be dead. They... they _can’t_...”

The above alarm sounded, and the repeated phrase came again and he was reminded that he urgently needed to get out of this place.

“Gotta... gotta move... gotta get out of here...”

As he made his way back to the landing, he crossed it to the door on the opposite side. When the door slid open the bright overhead light nearly blinded him, and he moved toward another set of stairs that led to yet another steel corridor. This one darker and dingier than the one he left behind.

How long had he been out? The rust on the walls suggested a significant amount of time had passed, but how long exactly... It was anyone’s guess.

He decided not to linger for long, and headed toward another door.

Movement in his peripheral caught his attention, and he turned his head to look at the window next to him in time to see what looked like a giant cockroach on the glass. The two seemed to notice each other at the same time, and Siv gave a shocked gasp while the roach hopped off the glass in the opposite room. Taking a step back, he looked on in disbelief.

“What-- what the _fuck_ -?”

He spotted something laying on the table beneath that window. Picking it up, he realised it was a baton. A weapon. His fingers clenched around its handle and he extended the shaft, looking over the weapon for a moment. _If those roaches are dangerous, it’d be a good idea to keep this thing around_ , he thought.

Moving on through the next bit of curved hallway, he held that baton firmly at his side. It looked to pay off, because when he opened the sliding door for the next room he heard a shrill noise and looked down in time to see one of those insects jumping toward him, and he instinctively lashed out with his baton. Green material splattered everywhere, and the mangled remains of the roach crumpled to the ground. Siv’s hands were covered in disgusting fluid that reeked like some sort of foul chemical.

He rubbed them off on his vault suit, grimacing at the mess. “Ew.” Once he was sure his hands were as clean as he could get them he moved on through the open door at the end of the room.

Arcs of electricity sparked above him. The reactor room. Keeping low to the ground he moved around the outer perimeter to avoid getting electrocuted by the shorted out machines. Light illuminated the end of his path, as well as the decayed skeleton of someone still wearing their vault suit. “Oh, god... What the hell happened?”

He held his hand on his stomach, a wave of nausea sweeping him. No. He had to press on. He had to find Vritra.

The next room he entered appeared to be the Overseer’s office. A c-shaped desk sat in the middle of the room, lockers lining the walls behind it. He saw a terminal sitting on the desk, as well as a gun. That might come in handy.

As he moved forward he noticed something shining on the surface of the desk, and reached down to pick up a stimpak, nestled neatly inside a box with two others. Grabbing them, he stuffed them into the pouch on the hip of his vault suit, picking the gun up off the table as well, though not before checking its clip to make sure it wasn’t loaded. Engaging the safety, he latched it onto his belt and moved over to the terminal after picking up a box of ammunition from the desk drawer.

“Well, at least this still has power...’’

Then came the familiar hum of the computer powering on and the glow of green text filling the screen. Poring over the data in the machine, it became clear that this vault wasn’t the utopian, futuristic ideal the salesman told him it would be. A cryogenic facility designed to test the effects of long-term freezing on unaware inhabitants. Siv grit his teeth, and slammed his fist down on the desk.

“Goddamn you, Vault-Tec. _Bastards_...”

As he continued reading it became clear that the leaders of the vault didn’t last very long. Resources became scarce. The security team betrayed the Overseer. Utter madness. Though, from everything he read, he discovered something interesting. Apparently the Overseer created a sort of portable freeze-ray. ‘ _Cryolator_ ’, he called it. A side project he worked on while they waited for the okay to return to the surface. A signal that, apparently, never came.

Glancing over to a gated section of the room, he noticed the aforementioned cryolator illuminated by spotlights above its glistening, icy case. “Nice,” he muttered, before returning his attention to the screen. Highlighting the option to open the overseer’s escape tunnel, he looked up in time to see the sliding doors at the end of the room open, and he moved away from the terminal to progress toward, what he hoped, was the eventual exit of this godforsaken maze.

As he left the Overseer’s office and headed into what he hoped would be the final corridor, the familiar hissing of roaches kept him on edge. Something looming dangerously on the edge of his sight. As he rounded the corner, a roach jumped from the wall in front of him, and he grabbed his gun, but it didn’t fire.

Dammit, the safety! He felt his heart pounding as he fumbled over the gun to turn off the safety, taking steps back as the insect neared him, three others following behind it. He felt cold steel against his back, and finally the click of the safety being disengaged allowed him to fire. The gun went off. The sound in these confined halls echoed and ringing filled his ears as he fired shot after shot, nearly draining his clip in a fit of hits and misses. Finally, when the flurry of gunfire ceased, he let out a breath and looked to the ground, green slime everywhere and the bodies of roaches filling the floor.

He waited a moment for his ears to stop ringing before he continued through the doorway. On the far end he saw the massive mechanism for the vault door, and hope filled his weary heart as he made his way up and over the stairs. The control panel was beyond him, a cased button in its center. “Dammit, how the hell do I get it open?”

He slammed the handle of his gun against the glass, but it didn’t even crack. Then he noticed a small hole next to the button. ‘ _Pip-Boy interface_ ’ it read. “...Pip-Boy?” Looking around, he desperately searched for one of those computers, finding it at his very feet still wrapped around the wrist of what looked like the vault doctor.

Picking it up, he wrapped it around his arm and switched it on, the computer buzzing with life renewed as he took the switch off the back of it, and used it to open that glass case. He practically slammed his fist on the button, and warning lights began flashing as the hydraulic mechanism sprang to life and inserted into the great vault door.

After a series of groans and metallic creaking, the air hissed as the room depressurized and the door was released, rolling to the side as the walkway in front of him extended toward the exit. Just beyond he saw the very same elevator he took to get down here.

And he ran for it. Freedom, at long last. Siv hopped on the elevator, and it took him all the way up to the surface.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the elevator to rise. “Come on, can’t this thing go any faster-?”

Just as he asked himself that question, the powerful doors at the top slid open, and blinding white light of day flooded the elevator shaft. He shielded his vision as the elevator crested at its peak, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he would see when the world returned to focus. This...

This was not the world he left behind. This was hell. This was death.

This... was the Wasteland.

Slowly, he stepped toward the edge of the cliff overlooking his and Vritra’s old home. Sanctuary Hills, now reduced to rubble and decrepit housing. As he followed the path down the hill to the destroyed town, he noticed several skeletons on the ground. The people who didn’t make it into the vault in time.

His bright blue suit stood out among the gray lands and green trees. Amazing how, even after humanity, life still persevered. Who knew if he’d ever see another human. Who knew if he was alone in this world.

As he crossed the old bridge into town, he scanned what he saw. Wind kicked up dust and blew it across the debris-filled street. He saw the bridge leading out of town in the distance, and looked to his left, following the road.

In the distance, in front of their old home, he noticed a shape. A rather familiar shape.

Codsworth. Their Mr. Handy model, still trimming the hedges even after total nuclear annihilation. Running down the path, he stopped about ten feet from the robot to catch his breath. He wasn’t sure if he’d noticed him yet, but that didn’t stop him from approaching the robotic butler. “...Codsworth?”

Halting his duties, the machine perked at hearing that voice - one he hadn’t heard in over two-hundred years. Two of his three eyestalks whirred as he looked at him, and he bounced on his thruster. “Good heavens! Mister Karter, it really is you!”

Siv stood there, in utter disbelief at how worn down his old butler looked. Rust covered his metal panels, wires were exposed in places, but he still maintained that same cheery demeanor. It was more than a little jarring for him to witness.

“Codsworth... all of this... everything... Everything’s gone... what the hell happened?”

“Sir, I’m not entirely sure what you’re talking about. What do you mean everything’s gone? You haven't been eating properly these last 200 years, have you, sir? Yes, you must be paranoid.”

“Wait-- what did you say? 200 years? No. No, that... that can’t be right. I haven’t... we haven’t been out that long, have we?”

“A bit over 210, actually. Given the earth’s rotation and a few dings to the old chronometer, haha. The way I figure that puts you at about two hundred years late for dinner! You must be famished.” As he said that, the robot turned on his thruster to head into the house to fetch something to eat.

Siv growled in his throat, fist clenched as he followed him. “ _Goddammit_ , Codsworth, I don’t need anything! Just... just tell me if you’ve seen Vritra. Please.”

Hesitating just before he got the box of Sugar Bombs from the cabinet, Codsworth’s optical shutters contracted for a moment. “Young master Vritra? Is he not with you?”

“Yeah, he’s totally here. Look, do you see him? That’s obviously why I’m asking you where the fuck he is.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I might be over two-hundred years old, but these sarcasm sensors are still the finest General Atomics has ever produced! And, quite frankly, that was a bit mean of you.”

Sighing, Siv rested his hands on the old, disrepaired counter in what used to be their living room, rubbing his face for a moment as he tried to collect himself. “I’m sorry, Codsworth. I’m just... none of this makes any sense...”

“Well, sir,” he said as he set the box of Sugar Bombs on the counter in front of Siv. “We could try searching the neighborhood. There’s a chance young master Vritra may turn up yet.”

Grabbing the box, he looked at it for a moment. For two hundred years, the container was in remarkable condition. Barring the absence of paint in many places, it looked just as he remembered. Though, when Codsworth gave his suggestion, Siv set the box back down. “He left the vault before I did. I don’t think you would’ve missed him. Besides, I’m pretty sure here is the first place he would’ve gone. God, I hope he’s okay out there...”

Pausing, Codsworth’s gears hummed as he tapped a robotic claw to his own body, in thought. “Hmm. Well, you could try asking the good people of Concord if they’ve seen him. They’ve only thrown rocks at me a couple of times, so they can’t be that hostile.”

“...Thanks, Codsworth.” Sighing, Siv pulled himself away from the counter and wandered out of the house. He couldn’t exactly wander the Commonwealth in a bright blue vault suit, could he?

Stepping across the road to the Rosa’s garage, he decided to look around and see if he could find something better to wear. If the Sugar Bombs were so well-preserved after the bombs, then surely he could find a decent set of clothes to wear. Right?

Rummaging around in a suitcase in what used to be their laundry room, he found nothing but a handful of bobby pins and an old, ratty dress. “Useless,” he muttered. Despite that, he still took the contents, tucking the dress beneath his arm and stowing the pins in his belt-pouch with the stimpaks and ammo. Maybe he could use the dress as a tinder for a fire?

Leaving the Rosa’s garage he headed down the street to another house that was somehow still standing. He set the dress on the counter and moved through the hallway into what looked to be a bedroom of some sort. Right. This was that old chem-dealer’s house, Hawthorne.

Searching the room yielded him little in the way of clothing, but he did manage to find some sort of improvised explosive. It looked like a Vault-Tec lunchbox with some tape and wiring attached to it. The thing looked fairly stable, so he took it and set it on the desk, when he noticed what it was sitting on.

A safe! Surely there was something good in here, right?

But a few tugs on the handle showed that the safe was locked tight. Then he remembered those bobby pins he picked up from the Rosa’s. Reaching into his pouch, he took out one of them and grabbed a screwdriver from the drawer of the desk, beginning to go to work prying that lock open. After a few moments of twisting and turning, he heard the sound of tumblers locking into place, and the lock finally turned, the safe’s door creaking open and revealing a plethora of goodies for him.

More ammo, some sort of jury-rigged gun, and a can of purified water. Taking the box of ammo and the water, he set them on the desk before grabbing the dress off the counter. He could use this to hold these supplies in, for the time being.

Wrapping up the water, the ammo, and the gun in the dress, he gripped the corners and folded it up into a ball.

Further exploration of this house yielded little else in the way of supplies, aside from two more stimpaks in the medicine cabinet. So it was with that, that he decided to leave Sanctuary Hills and embark toward Concord.

As he crossed the bridge, the intense smell of death hit his nostrils, and he looked down to see the corpse of some sort of mangy dog and a man. His stomach churned, and he covered his mouth, nearly dropping the bag of supplies. “Fuck-” It figures the first human he’d meet in this new world would be dead.

An omen that didn’t bode well for him.

However, despite the smell, the man seemed to be wearing a coat and some pouches. Pouches that might actually contain something useful.

Gritting his teeth, he thought long and hard about whether there was anything on the man’s body worth taking. After all, it wasn’t like he was going to need it anyway. Right?

Crouching down, he held his hand over his nose to avoid the stench as he rummaged through the man’s pouches and packs. He found a few bottle caps stowed away in his pocket, which he examined. Nuka Cola. There’s no way that company survived the War.

Throwing the caps off to the side, he began trying to take the man’s coat off. Thankfully he hadn’t been dead that long, and he was able to get the coat off of him fairly easily.

Giving it a once over, he decided it’d make a good addition to his wardrobe. Besides, the extra pockets would come in handy.

Throwing the coat over his shoulders, he grabbed his package of supplies and stood up, taking the extra ammo he’d found and stuffing it into the pockets of his duster, wrapping the rest of the supplies up in the bundle and heading down the path.

Glancing upward he noticed the old Minuteman statue that overlooked the town. What used to be a proud symbol of Americana was relegated to a festering, rusted lump of iron. He cast his gaze back to his feet as he trudged down the old road, glancing up occasionally to see if anyone was around.

As he neared the old Red Rocket coolant station, he heard what sounded like a dog yelping, and saw a healthy-looking dog near the entrance of the station fending off packs of hideous creatures. He wasn’t sure what they were, but he knew if he didn’t do something, the dog would be dead.

So he grabbed his gun and fired off a couple of shots in the air. The dog flinched, and the mole rats ceased attacking to turn their attention toward the one that fired the gun.

“Shit-” he muttered, dropping his pack and aiming the gun at the nearest mole rat to him. He squeezed the trigger and his aim was true, the animal’s head exploding in a shower of blood and gore as its body fell to the ground. He aimed to fire another shot, but the trigger only clicked. “What? Fuck,” he’d neglected to reload his gun after leaving the Vault. As he fumbled in his pockets for the ammo, a mole rat lunged at him and tackled him to the ground. He landed with a thud, and began trying to push the fifty-pound beast off of him, bashing it in the head with his pistol.

Suddenly, the rat’s body lifted off of Siv’s, and he looked up to see the dog dragging he mole rat to the ground, pinning it, and ripping out its throat in a series of growls and lunges. Reaching for his pack, he grabbed the pipe pistol from it and checked its chamber for a round. There was one mole rat left, and the dog was still attacking the mole rat on the ground. The third sprinted toward the pup, and Siv fired off a shot that crippled the animal’s front right leg, watching it stumble to the ground in pain, giving the dog enough time to attack it as well and bring it down.

Breathing heavily, he struggled to sit up and collect himself with what just happened, the adrenaline pumping through his veins keeping his heart rate through the roof.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he looked at the dog, who bounded up to him, happy as could be. He could tell the animal meant no harm, and he gave a little chuckle, ruffling up his ears. “You’re a pretty okay guy, you know that?” Which earned him a happy bark, followed by the dog nudging his face against Siv’s and giving his cheek a little lick. “Egh, don’t get blood on me-”

As he stood up, he wiped off his cheek onto his sleeve and grabbed his pack once more. “I guess you can come with me. Some company would be nice, huh, buddy?”

The dog whined and barked, tail wagging in excitement.

“Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Leaving Red Rocket station with his new companion in tow, Siv headed down the old road into Concord. This place looked to be fairing a bit better than Sanctuary Hills, but the houses still told the story of nuclear war, their frames exposed and windows no longer present. Most of the doors had been boarded up, presumably after the bombs fell. This was certainly not the Concord he remembered.

Walking down the road, he took out his gun and began the process of reloading it. He cursed under his breath at his stupidity for not reloading sooner, but regardless, he got it done, and slid the clip back into the handle of the gun before looking up to see the husk of an old diner.

He stopped, dead in his tracks. Memories flooded into his mind of the time before the war, when he and Vritra would come here and eat all the time. He remembered the first time he brought his boyfriend here, the little shit complaining about how small the servings were until they got to the entrée, then even he could hardly eat all of it. The two had so many memories tied to this place.

Unfortunately, Siv wasn’t able to reminisce too far, as a bullet buzzed by his head, and he immediately ducked, dropping his pack and looking for its source. The dog growled, and ran toward the owner of that bullet. A woman clad in some sort of handmade leather armor and little else began firing her pistol at the dog, only to be brought to the ground just the same as that mole rat earlier. Then he noticed she wasn’t alone. Two men, each in the same sort of put-together spiked armor were firing at him as well.

Siv grabbed his own pistol and ducked behind an old truck, firing around the corner. Great, so the first person he met was already dead, now these guys want to kill him. His luck just wasn’t turning out the right way.

“Fuck, this is ridiculous.” The sound of bullets ricocheting off the truck’s hull filled his ears, and he took aim around the corner at one of the raiders. He wasn’t sure if his shot landed or missed, and he didn’t care. He just wanted this firefight to be over.

Then he heard an odd sound - the sound of electricity crackling followed by dust hitting the ground. Then, silence. Tentatively, he peered over the hood of the truck. All of the people attacking him were gone, and in their places were piles of ash.

“Hey you!”

The voice came from above, on a balcony at the top of the old Museum of Freedom. Siv looked up, and saw a man holding some sort of laser rifle clad in what he could only approximate to a cowboy outfit.

“Yeah, you! I’ve got a few civilians in here that aren’t gonna last much longer if we don’t get some help. Grab that laser musket and help us. Please!”

“Goddamn, this is fucking-”

Sighing, he stood up and walked toward the door. What laser musket was he-

Looking down, he noticed the rifle laying next to the body of some poor girl dressed in some sort of tan outfit with that same cowboy hat the man had. Picking it up, he checked her corpse for the ammunition, and found it, latching his pistol to his belt before heading inside the museum.

As he opened up the door he saw more people dressed in leather armor shooting at something above him, red beams reducing their bodies to ash in seconds. Looking down to the rifle in his hands, he took a moment to figure out how to operate it. Some sort of crank was on its rear, and he turned it.

Electricity hummed, and the chamber began to glow red. “Huh. This is pretty advanced for a bunch of lone wanderers.”

Looking up, he fired at the raiders above them, and watched their bodies disintegrate entirely. Oh, he was definitely keeping this weapon-

As he fought his way up to the top, his dog helping every bit of the way, Siv wondered just what kind of ‘civilians’ needed saving. It was clear they could handle themselves, especially with that man with the laser musket killing everything in sight. Why they needed his help was beyond him, but he pressed on nonetheless.

When the last shot rang out, and the final raider hit the ground, the man with the rifle opened up the door to let him in. “Quick, get in here before more raiders show up!”

Trotting toward the door, he closed it behind him, after making sure his dog followed. “Jesus, you picked one hell of a time to come to Concord,” said the man, extending his hand for Siv to shake. “The name’s Preston Garvey. I’m with the Minutemen. I don’t know how much longer we could’ve held off those raiders without your help.”

Shaking his hand, Siv snorted and gave a slight shrug. “You seemed to be handling yourself pretty okay to me. But you’re welcome. Name’s Siv, by the way. Siv Karter.”

“Those aren’t the only raiders we’ve got to deal with. Besides, I’m almost out of ammo and these people are in no shape to fight,” he waved his hand to the three other people in the room. A woman in some sort of gypsy garb sat on the couch, a man sat in front of a desk, hugging his knees to his chest, and another woman was pacing the floor impatiently. “What brings you to Concord, anyway?”

“I’m... Looking for somebody.” He said, casting his glance to the people. “Who are these people, Preston?”

“Ah... I’d say I could help you, but all of our trackers died on the way here.” He said, a frown on his face. “They’re from down in Quincy. Things’ve been really stressful since the massacre. A month ago there were twenty of us. Now there’s only five... And unless you help us, I don’t think our numbers are going up any time soon.”

Siv blinked, staring at those people, before looking back to Preston. “What makes you think I can help you?”

“Well, I ain’t too sure what your skillset is, but you look like the kinda guy that could jimmy a lock or hack terminal in a pinch,” came a new voice from Preston’s left.

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Sturges. I fix things and tinker mostly.”

“Sturges has been working on a plan to deal with those raiders once and for all,” Preston said, adjusting his grip on his rifle. Siv looked between them for a moment, before shrugging. “Let’s hear it then.”

“Don’t know if you saw it on your way in, but there’s an old crashed Vertibird up on the roof. When we got here I did a little recon, and let me tell you, that thing has got one helluva beauty on board. I’m talkin’ a suit of cherry T-45 power armor, ready to be taken out for a little stroll.”

“Well, why haven’t you used it already?” Siv asked, folding his arms across his chest while Sturges explained further.

“Well, we would’ve. If it wasn’t already fresh outta juice.”

“It needs an old Pre-War F.C.. A fusion core. And there’s one here in the basement of the museum,” Preston chimed. Sturges nodded and looked back to Siv.

“Only problem is, none of us know how to pick a lock. And all our regular old b&e people aren’t with us anymore. But that’s where you come in. Head down to the basement, get that fusion core, and you can power up that bad boy on the roof and rip the minigun right out of the Vertibird. Then we can send those raiders an express ticket to hell. Y’dig?”

“I... I don’t know. It sounds kinda complicated, but I’ll try my best.”

Preston patted Siv on the shoulder to give him a bit of encouragement. “Listen. You’re the only help we’ve gotten since we left Quincy. We need you, Siv. I know you can do it.”

Sighing, he scratched the back of his neck. “All right. I’ll get it done.”

“Thank you. You’re a godsend.”

Turning away from Preston, Siv made his way across the room to the door, when the dog went over to the lady sitting down. “I knew Dogmeat would find someone in that town. I just didn’t quite expect you’d be the one he’d choose. But I’m glad he did.”

Pausing, Siv tilted his head. “Dogmeat? So he’s your dog.”

Mama Murphy just chuckled and shook her head while giving Dogmeat a little pat on the head. “No, no. Dogmeat’s what you’d call a free man. He doesn’t belong to anyone, and chooses his friends very carefully. He’s chosen you, now. And he will stick with you no matter what. I saw it.”

Blinking, Sivath raised an eyebrow. “You... saw it? Right. I was following you until you gave me that. What, are you a psychic?”

Shaking her head, Murphy laughed. “No, kid. It’s the chems. They give ol’ Mama Murphy the Sight. I can see what was, what will be, and even a little bit of what is right now.”

“What is? Can... can you tell me where I can find my boyfriend? Vritra?”

“I can’t see him. But I know he is alive. I can feel it,” she said, Dogmeat whining as he nudged her hand. “I’m sorry, kid. The Sight doesn’t let me see people. I can only... feel events. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me.”

He sighed, and gave a slight scowl in her direction. “Yeah, I bet you can. How do I know you’re not just... leading me on?”

“You don’t. All I can tell ya is that the Sight has helped us get this far, and I know it can help you find your lover.”

“Thanks... Mama Murphy.”

A bit annoyed, Siv walked down the hall toward the basement. It was definitely going to take a while to get down there, he knew he could do it. Hopefully, time would be on his side.


End file.
